miles of track wind along the coast and allows some window leaning
(against - not out) to set the scene.
Unfortunately the scene is gray. The weather is cool, dull and
interrupted by frequent showers. It rains like a cow pissing - at one
point I was holding an umbrella over the laptop so that I could send and
urgent email and close up`.
10.00 am: Accreditation was swift and efficient - getting into films
less so. Queueing for tickets in the morning was use d to be highlight
of Cannes. All the producers etc camped in a line in the sun, keeping
places for those who went for coffee or rolls. The queue was next to
the official photographers tent, so you could kill some time looking for
faces on the red carpet of each premiere. It was time consuming, but at
least you started the day knowing if you were going to the Palais that
night and would have to change into evening dress.
Now my badge only entitles me to wait in line - in full evening dress
and high heels - until 10 minutes before the premiere for any unused
tickets. If there are no seats - then it's evening dress in the pub and
pizzerias.
This is no great shakes - there was only one evening film a wanted to
see, and I'll catch that during the next day. I just makes me sad to
look at my 10 year old gold silk frock hanging on the bathroom door and
know that it won't get an outing for yet another 12 months.
11.00am: I have nothing planned for the day.
Print up the one-page outline and a wonderfully timed and utterly
nonsensical article in the Time about the Ethiopian Ark of the
Covenant. That's my movie on the page (only with less sex and fewer
explosions)
Lunch: My, prices have rocketed! Bought a box of strawberries to share
on the terrace of the UK Pavilion.
3.30 pm: First attempt at a meeting - walk in of the street to the Irish
Pavilion and get in invitation to pitch over breakfast on Sunday.
Sounds enthusiastic (although actually he just wants to talk about the
movie my producer *didn't* make with her partner. If we can convince
him the project has legs it could unlock the path to serious development
money, and a recce trip to Ethiopia.
5.00pm: Dash to Palais for market screening of Heart of Fire
<http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1169272/> - set in Eritrea in 1981.
Scramble around the building looking for the correct sales agent to blag
a ticket from, and get chatting to a French security guard about
Ethiopian food. Turns out she ate at an Ethiopian Restaurant in
Washington DC 10 days ago, and thought it wonderful. Helps me find the
right booth, just in time.
5.30pm: Heart of Fire has a slightly pedestrian script fired up by the
performances of the children, particularly Letekidan Micael as the 10
year old heroine. The sound cut in and out all the way through the
screening. Wonderful landscapes, with Kenya standing in for Eritrea
throughout.
8.00pm: Head to apartment to change, then out to the Romanian party on
the beach. Great food, great music, lovely people. I cut out about
11.00, to find the Petit Majestic (a backstreet bar which acts as the
unofficial festival drinking spot, all plastic pint glasses and people
talking 15 to the dozen in the street.
Instead I bump into a friend from Berlin, and end up with an invitation
in the Century Club (which being members is full of old people), dancing
to the Clash, drinking cocktails sponsored by a Sheik and talking to an
American Producer about the about the 12th C Civil War between Maud and
Stephen. Only in Cannes.
I think I walked home....
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